Random Conversations
by e-dog
Summary: Short stories based on those weird and sometimes enlightening conversations you can have with your coworkers.
1. I Love the 2000s?

Disclaimer: The JAG characters belong to DPB. Not me. Not making any money from this.

Author's Note: You ever gone to work and find yourself in the breakroom, twiddling your thumbs waiting on your instant tomato soup to finish cooking in the microwave? You ever do that? And then as you're waiting, someone comes in you think you know, but you're not sure and they strike up some random conversation with you? Yeah, that's what this is about.

I'm not sure how many of these I'll come up with, but they won't really go in order and there is no definitive plot. This is just for kicks and hell, it made me laugh for minute. Maybe it'll do the same for you.

"Random Conversations"

Random Convo # 1

"I Love The 2000's?"

by e-dog

Harm leaned against the counter, twiddling his thumbs waiting on his instant tomato soup to finish cooking in the microwave. He checked the time. Thirty seconds until chow time. He had skipped breakfast, which was something he wasn't used to doing and now he was starving. That drippy, red liquid was now looking very, very good.

Bud walked in and smiled, "Hello, sir."

"Hey, Bud." Harm replied, not taking his eyes off the microwave.

"Smells like tomato soup," Bud commented.

"Yep, it is," Harm nodded, watching the time tick down. Five, four, three, two...

Harm clapped his hands greedily and opened the microwave to retrieve his soup. He pulled it out and grabbed a spoon, too eager to wait and get back to his desk to take a sip. He put a spoonful in his mouth and sputtered. "Aw man!"

"Something wrong, sir?" Bud asked, pouring a cup of coffee.

"It's still cold!" Harm complained and glared at the microwave. "Damn thing. You know, I told Mac we needed a new microwave. She claims there's still some life left in it."

"I'll talk to Harriet about it, sir," Bud suggested. "She may be able to convince the Admiral to allocate some funds to a new microwave."

"That would really help, Bud," Harm laughed and put his soup back in the microwave. He set it on another two minutes. Harm sighed, two more minutes of waiting and being even more hungry than he was two minutes ago!

Harm leaned against the counter again, twiddling his thumbs. Bud was still standing next to him and Harm began to wonder why he was even still in the breakroom. "Uh, Bud? You need something?"

"Oh, just waiting on the microwave," Bud smiled, lifting up his coffee mug. "Someone turned off the coffee pot and now the coffee is cold."

"Oh," Harm said and returned his attention to his soup. One minute, thirty seconds.

After about ten seconds, Bud piped up and asked, "Sir? You ever watch that show I Love The 80s on VH1?"

"Uh, no," Harm smiled, wondering where Bud was going with this question.

"Well, sir, I've always wondered," Bud said, pretty much thinking out loud. "Every decade has a nickname. The 1970s can be shortened to the 70s. The 1990s is shortened to the 90s. But what about now? What do you call this decade?"

"You mean, 2000, 2001, 2002 and all the years that will follow?" Harm asked, scrunching his forehead in confusion.

"Yeah!" Bud nodded and put his mug down on the counter. "Say sometime in the future, VH1 wants to make a show about this decade encompassing all the years between 2000 and 2009. What would they call the show? I Love The what?"

"Well, gee, Bud," Harm laughed. "I don't know. "It's never crossed my mind, to tell you the truth."

"Heh, I know what you mean, sir," Bud chuckled. "It's not that I've been spending my whole life thinking about it, it's just one of those things that's been bugging me since yesterday."

Harm shrugged and suggested, "Maybe they would call it...I Love The 2000s?"

"No, I thought of that," Bud shook his head no. "If they call it the 2000s, you're talking about 1000 years of time, not just 10 years. You know what I mean, sir?"

"No, wait Bud, you would only be talking about 100 years, not 1000," Harm pointed out. "Because once you reach 2100, it's no longer the 2000s. It's the 2100s, you see?"

"Yeah, yeah, I do," Bud said.

Than both Harm and Bud became silent and leaned against the counter again, waiting on the last ten seconds of Harm's soup to finish. Once the microwave beeped, Harm reached in and pulled out his now very hot soup. He quickly set it down on the counter and blew on it to cool it off. Bud put his coffee in the microwave and put it on 30 seconds.

Then Bud stopped and turned to Harm, "But sir, you never answered my original question. What do we call this decade?"

"You're right, Bud," Harm laughed. "I didn't answer the first question and as much I was would like to spend more time thinking about it, I've got court in half an hour and I still haven't had lunch."

"Oh right, sorry, sir," Bud smiled and as Harm walked by he said, "Nice talking to you, sir!"

End


	2. So, What Did You Do This Weekend?

Disclaimer: The JAG characters belong to DPB. Not me. Not making any money from this.

Author's Note: One of those conversations that show how a harmless question can lead up to saying something totally wrong!

"Random Conversations"

Random Convo # 2

"So, What Did You Do This Weekend?"

by e-dog

Mac set the large stack of files down on the conference table. Harm grimaced and said, "We have to go through all of that?"

"Yep," she sighed. "All 34 of them. I didn't think this case was connected to so many other ones."

"Heh, neither did I," Harm laughed and decided to split the pile in half. He opened his first file while Mac looked through hers. After a few minutes, Harm discovered that this was going to be a borefest if he didn't start a conversation soon. He cleared his throat and asked, "So, Mac, what did you do this weekend?"

"Uh, not much," Mac shrugged, not really looking up from her folder. "I don't exactly have an exciting social life, so I just lounged around and finished a book I've been meaning to finish."

"Oh," Harm said simply, waiting on her to elaborate but she remained quiet. He was hoping to get more out of that. After a few minutes passed by, his wish was answered. She spoke up and asked, "What about you? What did you do this weekend?"

"Oh, me?" he looked up and shrugged as well. "Well, I took Mattie to the mall and she cleaned out my wallet. I didn't realize teenagers were so high maintenance."

"Well, I could've told you that," Mac chuckled, setting her folder down. "I would have Chloe over for a day. Just one day and I would spend a week's worth of money just on clothes and food. It was insane."

"Yeah, I now know how that feels," Harm smiled, putting aside his first folder. One down, 16 to go. He opened the next one and started to flip through the pages. He sighed and asked, "So, what was the book you were reading?"

"What?" Mac looked up.

"The book. What were you reading?" he repeated.

"Uh, it was The Firm," Mac answered.

"The Firm. Hey, wasn't that a movie?" Harm asked.

"Yep, Tom Cruise was in it," Mac confirmed, then her face kinda went into a mock-dreamy state. "He was looking pretty good in that flick."

Harm snorted a little and said, "Tom Cruise? C'mon Mac, I mean, the guy is not _that_ good looking."

"What are you talking about?" Mac gave him an incredulous look. "What's wrong with Tom Cruise?"

"Well, for one thing, he totally gives you the wrong impression of pilots in Top Gun," Harm said matter of factly. "I mean, pilots don't really act like that."

"They don't?" Mac said, really amused at Harm's animosity towards Tom Cruise.

"No, of course not!" Harm said defiantly.

"Okay, fine," Mac said, not willing to fight him on it. "If you don't think Tom Cruise is good looking, then you are entitled to your opinion."

"Thank you, "Harm smiled and returned his attention to his file. "Now that David James Elliott, he's a _very_ good looking guy..."

Harm immediately clamped his mouth shut, not believing what he just said. He looked up at Mac who's jaw was hanging open slightly. She looked at him as if to say, "Did you just call another man hot???"

Harm gulped and began to turn beet red. How did he get to this point? The conversation started out talking about their weekends! He shut his folder and held it up, "I don't think, uh, that this one will help us."

"You don't?" Mac said, playing along. Now Harm wanted to change the subject.

"Nope, I'll just sit it over here," he said quickly. He practically threw the folder across the table at her.

Harm and Mac remained quiet for the next several minutes, going over the documents. Harm forged on, pretending that he never said it, while Mac couldn't stop laughing on the inside. Finally, she couldn't hold it in any longer. "Hey, Harm?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you think of Pierce Brosnon? You think he's hot?"

"Shut-up, Mac."

"What about Ben Affleck? Or Tobey Maguire?"

"Maaaaaccc!"

End


	3. Aristotle Anyone?

Disclaimer: Uh...no. The characters do not belong to me nor am I making a profit. Also within the brackets will be direct quoted paragraphs from Aristotle's "Topics". It'll make more sense when you read. :)

Random Convo #3

"Aristotle Anyone?"

by e-dog

Harm quickly entered the breakroom and found Bud. "Hey, Bud, she's coming!"

Bud nodded and grabbed his coffee mug and leaned on the counter. Harm also grabbed his coffee mug and took a sip. Mac then walked in and they both smiled at her. She smiled back, "Hey, guys."

Harm looked at Bud and Bud nodded. He cleared his throat and began, "Sir, what do you think about today's case? Was the finding reasonable?"

Harm shrugged and said in a rather distinguished tone, "Hmm, depends how you define reasonable. [Now reasoning is an argument in which, certain things being laid down, something other than these necessarily comes about through them. It is a 'demonstration', when the premisses from which the reasoning starts are true and primary, or are such that our knowledge of them has originally come through premisses which are primary and true.]"

Bud simply nodded and added, "But, sir, [reasoning, on the other hand, is 'dialectical', if it reasons from opinions that are generally accepted. Things are 'true' and 'primary' which are believed on the strength not of anything else but of themselves: for in regard to the first principles of science it is improper to ask any further for the why and wherefore of them; each of the first principles should command belief in and by itself.]"

Harm simply nodded at Bud's elaborate statement as if speaking like that were normal and took a sip of his coffee. The two men glanced at Mac for her reaction. She was just standing still, trying to pretend she wasn't listening, but wasn't succeeding. Mac slowly turned around and looked at both them, wondering where the hell they had come up with that!

"What do you think, Mac?" Harm asked, trying not to burst out laughing at her disturbed expression. To hide his amusement, he wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"I, uh..., well, I found it to be...oh boy," Mac stammered, still trying to process what those two had said. It was obvious they were up to something, but she was rendered speechless and that's probably what they wanted.

"Is there something wrong, Ma'am?" Bud asked, inadvertently beginning to smile.

"Uh, no, Bud," Mac shook her head and just simply walked out.

"Did you see her face?" Harm started to laugh when she was gone.

"Oh, man, sir," Bud laughed with him. "She was soo confused!"

"We should memorize more of that Aristotle stuff and get Sturgis or something," Harm suggested.

Bud agreed and glanced out the door and saw Jennifer Coates coming. "Here comes Coates. Are you ready?"

"Yep," Harm said, grabbing his coffee mug. As soon as Jenn walked in, Harm started talking, "[Next, then, we must distinguish between the classes of predicates in which the four orders in question are found. These are ten in number: Essence, Quantity, Quality, Relation, Place, Time, Position, State, Activity, Passivity.]"

Bud then continued with his line, "[It is clear, too, on the face of it that the man who signifies something's essence signifies sometimes a substance, sometimes a quality, sometimes some one of the other types of predicate. For when man is set before him and he says that what is set there is 'a man' or 'an animal', he states its essence and signifies a substance; but when a white colour is set before him and he says that what is set there is 'white' or is 'a colour', he states its essence and signifies a quality.]"

Harm and Bud took a sip of coffee and waited on Jenn's reaction. She simply turned around and said, "That is interesting but you forget something."

Harm cocked an eyebrow and said, "What's that?"

"[Likewise, also, in the other cases: for each of these kinds of predicate, if either it be asserted of itself, or its genus be asserted of it, signifies an essence: if, on the other hand, one kind of predicate is asserted of another kind, it does not signify an essence, but a quantity or a quality or one of the other kinds of predicate. Such, then, and so many, are the subjects on which arguments take place, and the materials with which they start. How we are to acquire them, and by what means we are to become well supplied with them, falls next to be told.]" Jenn smiled at them.

Harm and Bud dropped their jaws and almost dropped their mugs. Did she really understand what they were saying? But wait? They had no idea what they were saying, so how could she?? Jenn took a sip of coffee and walked by and said to Harm, "Before my stint as a Stealing Santa Claus, I studied Aristotle in school, sir."

Harm smiled sheepishly and turned red with embarrassment and said, "Oh."

End


	4. Reduced Fat is Immoral

Disclaimer: Uh...no. The characters do not belong to me nor am I making a profit.

Author's Note: I started this series a long time ago. I have finally written another one. This is what happens when you mix me, my awesome beta reader, and peanut butter together.

**Random Convo 4**

"Reduced Fat Is Immoral"

by e-dog

It was finally time for a break from all the hard work. They set up camp in the conference room. She was eating fast food. He was eating. . .well. . .

He spread the peanut buttery goodness slowly across the slice of wheat bread. After finishing that, he licked the knife with such a passion, she nearly puked. Once the knife was devoid of any peanut butter, he then hungrily eyed the slice of bread. His carnivorous eyes, that smack of his tongue and the way he inched his chair forward in anticipation finally forced her to intervene.

"That's just. . .wrong," she stated in disgust. "That's just soooo wrong."

His trance seemed to break at her statement of wrongness. He looked at her confused and asked, "What's wrong?"

"_That_," she said, pointing at his slice of bread. "That is wrong."

"It's just peanut butter on wheat, Mac," Harm shook his head at her in disbelief.

"No, it's reduced fat peanut butter," she corrected, then made a face. "It's not real peanut butter."

He frowned and chose to ignore her. This wasn't the first time she made faces at his choice of food. Before he could take that first luscious bite out of his snack, he heard her gag. He ignored her again, until she did it a second time! He put the slice of bread back down on his napkin and glared at her, "Could you not do that? I'm trying to eat!"

"I'm trying not to puke," she continued to tease, but in all honesty, she did look like she was about to barf.

"Okay, I give," he sat back, but still eyed his snack hungrily. "What's wrong with my peanut butter?"

"Harm, it's reduced fat! What else do you need to know?" Mac chuckled like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It tastes weird."

"It tastes weird?" he repeated. "You're dogging my snack because you think it tastes weird?"

"I don't think it tastes weird," she corrected. "I _know_ it tastes weird. Reduced Fat is immoral."

"Immoral!" he said in surprise. He shook his head and pointed at her, "I don't care what you say! I'm eating my reduced fat peanut butter, whether you like it or not." Before he could pick up the slice, he quickly added, "And stop making those gagging noises."

"Okay," Mac shrugged, pretending not to care. Before he could take a bite, she couldn't resist. "Did I mention before it's not real peanut butter?"

He paused and groaned. He still hadn't taken a bite of his snack. He looked at her and asked in exasperation, "Is that so?"

"It's not real, Harm," Mac continued to protest. "It's so pasty! Just wait a minute. I'll be right back."

Harm watched her rush off and saw this as his opportunity to eat his long awaited, desirable treat. Nothing was going to stop him now! Not a damn thing! His teeth were mere millimeters away from sinking into the creamy goodness, when she bursted back into the room. She set a spoon and a jar of regular old peanut butter down in front of him. She grinned and explained, "I want you to eat a spoonful of this first, then take a bite of your reduced fat yucky-ness. Once you taste them side by side, you'll see that I'm right."

As much as he wanted to eat his reduced fat snack, he wanted to prove Mac wrong even more. He gave her a mocking grin and using the spoon she provided, took a scoop of peanut butter out of the jar. He ate it, smacked his lips and smiled. At least his rumbling stomach was finally satisfied. He finished off the spoon, then lifted up his slice of bread confidently.

He took a huge bite and chewed with pride. Through peanut butter sealed lips he exclaimed, "See? No difference!"

Mac put on a face of disappointment, but finally conceded, "Fine. Obviously, someone burned off your taste buds when you were a child."

On that note she left, leaving him alone.

It was at that, Harm allowed his face to pale. She was right. Reduced fat was immoral! Hell! It should be against the law!

He leaped from his chair, found the closest trash can and chucked up all the "reduced fat yucky-ness" from his infected mouth. He sputtered a few times and even coughed and gagged. It had been so long since he had real peanut butter, he forgot how good it was! In fact, the moment he tasted the real stuff, he noticed the difference immediately, but ate the reduced fat anyway so he wouldn't look like an idiot.

He leaned on the can for support, glad he waited to do that until after she left. If she had seen his real reaction, he would never hear the end of it!

He rose from his spot on the floor and turned around. His face fell as he saw her standing in the doorway. A cute, knowing grin was plastered on her face. Before he could say anything, she just held up a hand to silence him. She said in a sing-song voice, "I told you that stuff was wrong."

Mac walked over to the table, held up his half eaten piece of reduced fat wheat bread and showed it too him. He immediately paled and sprinted from the room. She skipped out into the hallway just in time to see the door to the men's room slam shut.

End


End file.
